All That Is Necessary
by ohalaskayoung
Summary: Peeta is failing Chemistry, and in order to keep him quiet about her little secret, Katniss offers to tutor him. AU. A submission for Prompts in Panem, Day 7.


_All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing._  
_Edmund Burke (1729 - 1797)_

* * *

She never wore anything colorful. Notice I said _wore_, as in clothes. Katniss Everdeen's appendages were decorated like the Sistine Chapel. She doodles on them all day long, with anything she could grab. Pens, markers, even paints. Each day her hands and arms were decorated with new designs and phrases. Sometimes, when the weather was warm, she even designed the smooth, olive skin of her legs.

I ached to touch those legs. I ached to run my fingers along their length and kiss the skin behind her knees. I couldn't think of anything than would please me more-other than kissing her in other places. But Katniss Everdeen is Unattainable. She is an Enigma. She is, most poignantly, Not Mine.

"What about you, Mr. Mellark? Do you have the answer for number eleven?"

Miss Trinket's shrill voice jolted me from my thoughts. I startled in my seat, provoking titters of laughter from my fellow students. I stared blankly at Miss Trinket's overly made-up face until she sighed dramatically.

"Number eleven, Mr. Mellark. Perhaps if you were paying closer attention to what I was saying you wouldn't be failing this class."

My face flushed and I looked down at my paper, hoping to redeem myself.

_How many carbons can be found in diflouroheptane?_

Fuck. I didn't even know where to begin with pronunciation, let alone finding the carbons. I hate Chemistry.

Miss Trinket was still waiting for an answer, impatiently tapping the toe of one of her hot pink patent leather shoes.

"Seven," someone whispered, so low that I could barely hear it. My head snapped up, but the body in front of me was so still that I thought I had imagined it. Her long dark locks were tightly wound into their typical braid, still falling over the hood of her black sweatshirt in the same direction it had been thirty seconds ago.

"Seven?" I tried weakly. Miss Trinket nodded briskly, appeased with my answer, and crossed the room to write out the proper formula on the board. I heaved a sigh of relief and hastily copied down her example so I would have some form of reference for homework later.

Soon the peal of the bell echoed through the halls, and as if marionettes all connected to one string, the class rose to their feet and hurriedly shoved their binders into their backpacks. I just slung one strap over my shoulder when I saw an all-black figure hurry out the door.

"Don't to forget to review for your quiz next week!" Miss Trinket called to us as we fled. "Have a safe weekend!"

I stepped out into the hallway, craning my head over the hordes of students. I caught a flash of black and the whip of a braid as she turned the corner, and then she was gone. My heart sank.

"Hey, Peet!" A tanned arm encircled my shoulders and pulled me close. "You're coming to my place tonight, right?"

Finnick Odair ran his free hand through hid bronze hair as he talked. His sea green eyes sparkled as bright as his pearly white teeth, and a gaggle of freshmen girls swooned against their lockers as we passed.

"Do I ever miss one of your parties, Finn?" I told my best friend. He laughed and clapped my shoulder.

"Alright, then. The parental unit will be out around seven, so head over around eight-thirty. I've got the key to my dad's liquor cabinet and-"

A small girl with shy eyes and long black hair seemed to float down the staircase. Her tiny hands where clenched together in front of her as she timidly made her way around the obstreperous hordes. Finnick trailed off and his face broke into a tremendous smile.

"Shoot me a text later," he told me distractedly. "I'll catch up with you tonight, Peeta."

I laughed but didn't respond. Finnick was too far gone already. He pushed through the crowds until he reached his girlfriend, whose lips twisted up when she saw him.

Finnick grabbed Annie Cresta around the waist and hoisted her up until she was level with his face. He peppered her face with kisses and she swatted his arms with a laugh. The womanizer and the mad little girl.

I shook my head with a laugh and headed to my locker.

* * *

The party was in full swing by the time I arrived at nine p.m. Finnick's _house_- a sprawling mansion with a Jacuzzi the size of a small pool and an actual pool the size of a lake, a full-court basketball court in the backyard, and a home theater in the basement- was packed with what seemed like the entire student body. I meandered around the living room before catching sight of my best friend.

"PEETA!" Finnick boomed. He waved me over to his spot on the kitchen island countertop. He had a beer in one hand and the other was keeping Annie firmly planted on his lap. Her face was flushed and she kept tipping a wine glass up to her lips.

"Hey, man," I said when I reached him. We slapped hands and I smiled at Annie. Her hand fluttered in a timid wave, and I saw her lips move.

"What was that?" I asked loudly as I leaned closer. Finnick had his iPod hooked up to a dock in the living room and the combination of the music and a hundred conversations created a terrifyingly loud cacophony robbed me of my ability to hear. I was shocked that Annie, who normally scared at the sound of someone coughing, was able to stand the noise. But, I supposed that the mix of the wine and Finnick's soothing touch eased her woes.

"I asked if you came here with anyone," Annie repeated, louder this time. I shook my head with a laugh.

"Just me, myself, and I, Annie."

"We've only got a year and a bit until graduation, Peet," Finnick said. "Then you're chances go _poof!_ You better talk to her while you can."

I whipped my head around and searched the room. "Is she here?"

Annie looked confused. "Is who here? Finn, what are you talking about?"

Finnick leaned into and whispered into his girlfriend's ear, and then her eyes widened.

"You're into Katniss Everdeen?" she asked, as if it were something scandalous. I shrugged and ducked my head.

"He's been pining after Stone-Faced Everdeen since seventh grade, babe," Finnick said. Annie stifled a laugh, and I glared at her.

"No, I think it's cute!" Annie defended herself. "Really, it is. Why haven't you talked to her?"

"You talk like it's easy to speak to her," Finnick interjected. "If you so much as glance at her she looks like she'll bite your head off."

"No, she doesn't!" I exclaimed. Annie looked at me with a raised eyebrow.

"Aren't you a bit biased, Peet?"

I grumbled to myself, rubbing the back of my neck with my hand. I could feel my face flushing under the couple's scrutinizing stares. A redheaded boy stumbled past me, and I grabbed the can of beer from his hands and chugged it in one gulp.

"Alright!" Finnick hollered. "It's time to get this party started!"

* * *

Despite the warm day, the night was significantly cooler. I made a conscious decision to walk the few blocks to Finnick's house, knowing I'd get smashed and not wanting to risk banging up my parents' car and having my mother tear me apart. The cool night air helped to clear my foggy head as I walked, but I could still feel the buzz of alcohol in my brain.

I was walking through town and was just passing the butcher shop, a few doors down from my family's bakery, when I heard a faint hiss. I stopped and rubbed my hand over my ear, thinking it was just a trick of the wind. But it came again.

_Hssss. Hss. Hss. Hsssss_. There was a clink, like something was being rattled around, and then, _Hss. Hssssss._

I walked up the walk, onto the small concrete porch and up to the entrance and peered inside. Everything was pitch black- closed for the weekend. The butcher's son, Cato, was on the lacrosse team at school, and they had a weekend tournament upstate that his whole family was attending. The butcher shop wouldn't be open until Monday.

I jumped off the concrete and-stumbling only a bit-meandered around the side off the building, and that's when I saw her. She was clad in all-black, as usual, and the tip of her braid was peeking out from her hood. She held a bottle of spray-paint in her hand and used cans littered the grass around her. He took a step towards her, and her head snapped in his direction.

"Katniss?" I said, but it was already too late. Katniss Everdeen dropped the can and spun on her heel. She began to run away from him, and I struggled to catch up. My vision was swimming, and she had a head start, but my legs were still longer. She ran behind the buildings, weaving around Dumpsters and discarded furniture. Iran close enough behind her to grab her elbow, and she started thrashing.

"Let me go or I'll scream," she hissed.

"And then what?" I snapped back. I knew what- she'd be caught with paint stains on her arms and the cops would find the empty bottles and put two and two together. If she screamed she'd be condemning herself, and she knew it. Fear sparked in her eyes.

"What are you gonna do then?" she spat. I recoiled, but didn't loosen my grip on her elbow.

"I'm going to have to turn you in," I said slowly. Katniss rolled her eyes and began tugging again. Eight years of wrestling had its advantages, and I was able to hold her with one hand without breaking a sweat.

"Come on, Peeta, let me go."

I smiled internally. I didn't even knew that she knew his name, let alone had ever heard her say it. Even if it sounded like she was cursing me and my entire line of descendants, it still sounded glorious coming from her mouth.

"I'm sorry, Katniss," I said, and I was. I didn't want to see her get in trouble. "But I have to. You were vandalizing a building. That's illegal. The butcher and his family are nice people, too. Why would you want to ruin their building?"

Katniss glared at me. "Of course you would think that, little rich boy," she snarled. "You folk from Town live in your own little bubble. You think everyone's nice and fine because they smile at you and exchange Christmas cards. You don't know how people really are. You don't know what kind of trouble lies beyond your fucking picturesque shops and perfect houses."

I stared at Katniss in disbelief. I had been in the same classes as her since seventh grade and had never heard her utter more than a few words. This was not how I expected our first conversation to go. For example, I had imagined us smiling. I had imagined being as suave as possible and her not falling for anything. I had imagined her finally cracking a smile after I made a complete fool of myself. I had not imagined it would involve me physically restraining her.

"I don't have any idea what you're talking about, Katniss," I told her. She rolled her eyes at me. "So why don't you explain it to me? Calmly?"

She scowled.

"I'll let you go if your promise not to run away."

After a pause, she conceded with a curt nod of her head. I tentatively loosened my grip on her arm. When she didn't move, I let go fully. She rubbed her hand over the spot where mine had been and winced.

"I'm sorry," I said. "Was I holding you too hard?"

Katniss shrugged and tossed her braid over her shoulder. "I'm fine."

"Okay, then," I mumbled awkwardly. Katniss shifted on her feet, and the air buzzed around us. "Well?"

Her steely gray eyes locked onto mine. "Well, what?"

"Um, care to explain your unwarranted hatred for my neighborhood and stereotypes about my friends?"

Katniss scoffed. "Unwarranted? Stereotypes? I have plenty of reasons to dislike these..._people_, and stereotypes are only considered stereotypes if they aren't true in all circumstances."

I let my breath out in a huff. My head was starting to pound and I just wanted to go home.

"What if I tutor you?"

I looked up at Katniss in surprise. "What?"

"You're failing Chemistry, right?"

I nodded sheepishly.

"I'll tutor you if you promise not tell rat me out." I searched her eyes for sincerity. "And I'll even tell you about my _stereotypes,_ if it'll keep you quiet."

I bit my lip and massaged my temples. "Fine," I said. "Okay. We have a deal."

Katniss stuck out her hand, and I wrapped my own around it. Her hands were impossibly soft, and I could have sworn I felt them tremble under mine.

"We have a deal," she repeated.

Katniss promised to go straight home and not return to her "masterpiece". I helped her collect and dispose of her cans, and we parted ways in front of the butcher shop.

"Oh, Katniss!" I called after her as she walked away. She turned her head around, but kept walking.

"Yeah?" she called back.

"Thanks for helping me out in Chem today," I said. I could've sworn I saw a smile twitch at her lips, even as we moved farther apart.

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

* * *

Our first study session was sufficiently awkward. I invited Katniss over to my house Monday afternoon after school. We took a seat at my dining room table and open our textbooks to the homework page Miss Trinket had assigned.

We didn't mention the fresh sketches on her palms that she tried to hide with the worn sleeve of her dark hoodie. We didn't mention the fact that the butcher is on a rampage to find and punish whoever defaced his property. We didn't mention the heavy bags under her eyes.

"Okay, so how about we start separately and whenever you have a question just let me know," Katniss suggested. I nodded in agreement and looked down at the first question.

_How many hydrogens can be found in butane?_

"Um, Katniss?" I whispered.

"Hmm?" she said, looking up from her paper. I glanced at her work- she was already on question four.

"I, uh, need help with the first one."

Her lips dipped into a frown before setting themselves back into a line. "Okay," she said, craning her head to look at my non-existent work. "What exactly do you not understand?"

My cheeks flushed with color and I ducked my head. "I guess all of it," I murmured. "I don't even know what butann is."

"First of all, it's pronounce _butane_," Katniss told me with a small grin. "And here-look at your reference table."

Katniss spent the next hour re-teaching me the entire lesson that I had zoned out earlier in the day. After showing me how to find the names of the compounds we had learned, she left me to figure out the first couple questions. I was able to do the first seven with only a bit of trouble, but when I came to number eight I looked over to Katniss to see all of her books packed away and her nose shoved into a book.

"What are you reading?" I asked lowly. Katniss jumped at the sound of my voice and quickly dog-eared her page.

"Oh! Sorry, I just finished and you weren't done and I didn't want to seem like I was waiting-"

"Katniss, it's fine, I know you're loads smarter than me," I jibbed. "What book is that?"

She held up the book so I could read the cover. It was _Misery_ by Stephen King. I had seen my dad flipping through his copy once or twice over the years, but he never seemed to finish it.

"What's it about?" I asked. I subtly tried to slip my paper under my textbook.

"Well, there's this writer, Paul Sheldon, who was in this horrific car accident. He wakes up in a whole lot of pain to find out that the woman who rescued him happens to be his biggest fan- and she is, but she's also this complete psychopath."

"Does she kill him?" I inquire.

"Not yet, at least. I'm only halfway through it- Hey!"

My hands freeze, and Katniss reaches forward to yank my papers out from underneath my books.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Um, what?"

"Peeta, you didn't finish!" Katniss cried as she examined my paper. "Don't try and distract me, finish this right now."

"Katniss, it's fine, really. I get it now-"

"Peeta Mellark," she said gravely. "I promised to tutor you. Tutoring, by definition, is when a person is employed by another to instruct in a specific branch or branches of studies. If you do not complete the work, then you aren't completing your instruction and my work is for naught."

I rolled my eyes. "It's all the same questions, though."

"Don't you ever pay attention?" she snapped. "Miss Trinket always reuses homework questions on her tests and quizzes. If you do them now, you'll get them right on the exams. Do. Them."

Katniss finished her rant with a flush to her cheeks. I arched an eyebrow at her, and she shyly nudged the paper back to me. I took it wordlessly, and finished the problems whilst she buried her nose back into her book.

* * *

Our next study session was on Wednesday. Katniss had to walk her sister to a friend's house near town, so she came by a little later than our previous session. I was already situated with my books on the table when three quick knocks to our front door sounded throughout the house.

I opened the door with a grin, but it was quickly replaced by a concerned frown at the sight of Katniss's face. It was flaming red and blotchy, and she shoved past me into the house without even uttering a greeting.

"Let's get started," she said briskly as she hastened to the table. She through her bag on the floor next to her chair and quickly took a seat. "Come on, let's get on with it."

"Katniss, are you al-"

"I'm fine, Peeta," she said hurriedly. "I'm sorry I'm late. I just got caught up with Prim, that's all. Now let's start reviewing for this test of Friday."

I slid into the seat adjacent to hers. "You're not late, don't worry," I told her, as if that was the problem.

She didn't answer me. Katniss took out the review packet Miss Trinket had issued us and flipped open to the corresponding page in the textbook. "Come on, Peeta. Get your sheet out." Her voice has a certain edge to it, a discreet whine that hinted she was trying to suppress a cry.

"Katniss." I reached out a tentatively placed a hand on her arm. It trembled beneath my touch, but she made no move to move it away. Gently, I eased the pencil she was gripping for dear life out of her hands and pressed her palm into the table.

"Will you tell me what happened?"

"Why did something have to happen?" she quipped, albeit halfheartedly.

"Because we've been in school together since seventh grade and I've barely heard you utter three words, and the past few times we've talked it's like you're putting on a one-man show," I told her softly.

Katniss laughed lightly, as if she couldn't muster up the breath. "My dad always used to say that I was like a broken wind-up toy; I would jabber on and on and on and nobody knew how to turn me off."

I bit the inside of my lip at the mention of her father. The Everdeens had always lived outside of Town. It was nicknamed the Seam, because all the kids' clothing seemed to be falling apart at the seams from overuse. Mr. Everdeen had been born and raised in the Seam, but he was a good man who was respected amongst the people in Town. He had been killed by a drunk driver when Katniss was in sixth grade.

Before his death, Katniss and her younger sister Primrose had been enrolled in Panem Private School. The combination of the sister's good grades and their parents squeezing out whatever they could afford to pay for them to attend school there kept them enrolled. However, once Mr. Everdeen died and Mrs. Everdeen sunk into a depression, the bills could no longer be paid and they had to transfer to PS12 when she was in seventh grade.

It was quite the sad story, and one that no one ever talked about. The Everdeens were notoriously poor, but they were still able to give their kids a better life than some of us in Town, even if it was just for a little while.

"When we moved here, " Katniss continued, "I thought it might be nicer, you know? Back in Panem, Prim and I were tormented for being there on a scholarship and taking out loans. I begged my parents to take us out, because it would be easier on them financially and Prim wouldn't have to grow up being bullied. But they wanted us to get a quality education, because they couldn't give us anything else."

Katniss sniffled, and my arm twitched. I ached to place it around her.

"When we came to PS12, I was almost happy. I figured that it would be nicer, and easier on Prim and I. And it was- for her at least. The kids...they ripped me apart. I learned that talking only made it worse...So I kept as quiet as I could."

I remember. I remember Cato and his crew throwing balled up pieces of paper at Katniss in the middle of class. I remember the gaggle of girls poking fun at her worn-out clothes. They would make snide comments in class about her being downgraded to a public school, and still not being able to afford it. I remember all of it.

I remember not doing anything about it.

"That's why I was defacing the butcher's shop," Katniss explained, wiping the tears away from her eyes. "Cato _accidentally_ shoved me down the stairs second period on Friday. Then, when I was walking back from town, one of his friends _accidentally _threw an egg at me."

Katniss shrugged off her jacket to show me the yolky stain on her back.

"I was so sick and tired of those idiots making me feel worthless that I wanted to take something away from them." Katniss laughed coldly. "Don't get mad, get even right?"

"I'm so-"

"Don't you dare say you're sorry, Peeta Mellark," she snapped. "Look, you're a nice guy and everything, but don't you dare pity me when you sat backed and watched me get pushed around for five years. Just don't."

Katniss coughed and shook her head. "Now, open your book. I'm done talking."

Ashamed and soundless, I flipped open my textbook. We did not say a word for the next hour.

When I finished all of the review problems, I looked up. Katniss had a different book open, and was turning the pages avidly.

"What happened to _Misery_?" I asked. My voice cracked from lack of use. Katniss looked up at me.

"I didn't finish it. I don't finish books."

"What?" I blanched. "Look, I don't read much, but isn't finishing the book pretty essential?"

Katniss shrugged nonchalantly and dog-eared her page in _The Crucible. _"If I don't finish it, I'm won't be disappointed. I get to make up my own ending where the good guy wins."

"But that's senseless," I argued. "That's not what happens in real life, Katniss."

Her cool, gray eyes flashed to mine and hardened. "I know."

* * *

That night, when Katniss moved to leave, I grabbed her elbow.

"Listen, Katniss, you have every right to be upset with me," I told her. "I know you're only doing this because you were scared I'd tell the cops it was you- but I won't. You have my word I won't breathe a syllable to a single soul. You don't have to tutor me anymore."

Katniss shrugged her elbow out of my grip with a smirk. "Of course I have to tutor you, Mellark. I'm emotionally invested. If you fail this exam, I'll feel like a failure. And I may be poor, but I am _not_ a failure."

A grin played on my lips. "Katniss Everdeen, you have never been, nor will you ever will be, anything less than the greatest success."

* * *

We took the exam on Thursday. I was able to answer most of the questions without too much trouble. I had found Katniss before school and she reviewed the entire lesson in five minutes using only flashcards. For the first time all year, I had not left a single question blank.

The clock was ticking, ticking, ticking. Miss Trinket was droning on about our next lesson. At the beginning of class, she had whispered to me that she wanted me to stay after to discuss my grade. I couldn't decide if the pit in my stomach was from nerves or excitement. I was nervous because if I failed, she would call home to my parents. I was excited because for the first time all year I might have done something right.

The bell rang. Everyone stood up and ignored Miss Trinket's frazzled calls for us to be safe and enjoy our weekend. I hung back, making a big deal over adjusting the strap of my backpack. Katniss breezed by me, only sparing me a quick glance.

My stomach was doing flips as I made my way to Miss Trinket's desk. "You wanted to discuss my grade, Miss Trinket?"

My throat was dry. I swallowed roughly, but it did nothing to relieve the scratchy feeling. My pinkie fingers were twitching against the straps of my backpack. It felt as if a hummingbird had replaced my heart and was now fluttering rapidly behind my ribcage.

"Yes, I did." Miss Trinket's blonde bouffant bounced as she reached into a thick, hot pink folder and pulled out my exam. Her fluorescent nails were sharp contrast to the drab black-and-white of my test. "I figured you'd like to see it for yourself before I handed them back to the class."

I took the paper with a shaking hand. My eyes were frozen on the two numbers written in red ink and circled at the top. I couldn't believe it.

"Mr. Mellark...Peeta? Where are you going?" Effie called to me as I raced out of her room. I don't remember responding to her, I just ran as fast as I could.

I shoved myself through the leftover crowds of students and towards the doors. The line of buses was just starting to depart, and I ran faster, hoping I would make it in time.

"Katniss!" I yelled. "Katniss, wait!"

Katniss paused, in the middle of entering the bus. She whipped around, her braid smacking the back of her black hoodie-clad back.

"What is it, Peeta?" she mumbled awkwardly as she stepped off. The other students filed on, shooting her a glare.

"Look!" I held out my test to her. "Can you believe it?"

And then Katniss Everdeen's face broke out into the most radiant smile I had ever seen.

"An eighty-seven?" she cried. "Peeta, that's magnificent!"

I smiled with her, and threw my arms around her tiny frame. "Thank you, Katniss." I murmured into her hair. She stiffened, and then relaxed, even tentatively placing a hand on the small of my back.

"You're welcome, Peeta," she breathed. Her breath tickled my ear and I repressed a shudder. My grip around her tightened and I willed my eyes never to open because in that moment, with her in my arms, was the happiest I'd been in-

"Well, well, well. If it isn't the baker and the little Seam bitch."

Reluctantly, I released Katniss and turned to face Cato. He stood before us with his arms crossed, flanked on each side by his cronies, Marvel and Brutus. Their girlfriends, Clove and Enobaria, were huddling off to the side. They started whispering excitedly when they were joined by Cato's girlfriend, Gina, who was often referred to as Glimmer because of the sparkling powder she used on her face.

"What's up, Cato?" I asked evenly. His eyes flickered amusedly between Katniss and I, and I could feel her tense behind me.

"What are you doing with little Cat-Piss, Mellark? Did you get tired of jerking off into pies and figure you might as well try your luck in the slums?"

Any luck I had at creating a witty retort died on my lips and I looked down at the pavement. It wasn't the first time I had been at the receiving end of an _American Pie_ joke, but it was the first time Katniss had been involved. Cato snickered when Glimmer asked Katniss who she had to blow to pass the math test yesterday.

_Fuck off, _I thought, clenching my fists. _Just leave her alone. She never did anything to you- well, besides graffiti your butcher shop. But you don't know that so piss off and leave her alone._

"What's wrong, Mellark? Too used to the cupcakes that you don't know how to speak when a real man is talking to you?"

Katniss sighed behind me, and I felt her soft fingers graze my arm. My heart clenched. She was disappointed- disappointed in me. She had given me a gigantic speech the other day about how these bastards tormented her, and here they are humiliating her and I'm doing nothing.

"I don't see any real men," I said loudly before I could stop myself.

"Peeta, what are you doing?" Katniss whispered. "Let's just go, they're not worth it."

"But _you_ are!" I turned to face Katniss's shocked expression. "You are worth it, Katniss, and it's not fair that these pricks say shit about you all the time."

I felt a strong grip on my shoulder and was spun around. Cato's face was inches from my own, and he was seething.

"Are you trying to start trouble, you little shit?" he hissed in my face. Bits of spittle landed on my chin, and I wiped it off with the back of my hand.

"I'm not trying to start anything. I just don't think that Katniss is deserving of any of the treatment she has received."

I took a step back and grabbed her hand. It was shaking.

"Katniss Everdeen is the smartest girl I've ever met," I announced. "She doesn't need to _blow_ _anyone_ to get good marks. She is intelligent, and caring, and beautiful, and just a _good_ _person_. Which is more than I can say about any of you ignorant assholes.

"'All that is necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.' Edmund Burke. We learned about him last week while you were snoring. He was right; and I'm done doing nothing. You need to step off."

Cato took a threatening step forward and shoved Peeta's shoulders.

"You better watch yourself, prick. You don't want to go where you're headed."

Peeta looked at Katniss, who was staring at him with wide eyes and a small smile.

"Actually, I'm exactly where I want to be."

* * *

"Well?" Katniss asked excitedly as I hung up the phone. "What did you get?"

I tucked my iPhone back into my pocket. I had worked out an arrangement with Miss Trinket last week, and she agreed to call me as soon as she was done grading my final exams to give me my grades.

Katniss was laying across my lap on the bean bag chair in my room, anxiously awaiting my news. The past two weeks had been nothing but intense study sessions. I was lucky to squeeze in a kiss every night before she left. She insisted that every moment be spent with our heads in our notes so that I could pass for the year. If I didn't score high enough of my final, I would have to retake the class next year.

"Peeta Mellark, you tell me right now!"

"Not without a kiss first," I said with a chuckle. Katniss craned her neck up and I met her halfway, softly caressing her lips with mine. She pulled away all too quickly, and looked at me expectantly.

"I passed for the year," I said.

"Oh my God, Peeta, that's great!" she cried, jumping from the bean bag chair. She hopped in front of my excitedly. "I'm so proud of you, Peeta!"

"But that's not the best part," I said. "Guess what I got on my final exam." The highest test grade I had gotten all year was an eighty-nine.

"Did you get a ninety?"

I shook my head. Katniss's face fell infinitesimally, but she recovered with a smile.

"Oh, that's okay, Peeta. You'll get loads of nineties next year-"

"Katniss." I held up my hand. "I didn't get a ninety. I got a ninety-two."

Her jaw dropped. "A ninety-two?"

I grinned.

"A ninety-two?"

Katniss jumped back on top of me, and I caught her with a grunt. Her fingers wound into my hair and she eagerly kissed me.

"I am _so_ proud of you," she whispered against my lips. My hands found purchase on her hips and I pulled her tight against me.

"I wouldn't have been able to do it if it wasn't for you."

Her hands, free of any designs or drawings, traced my face, and the sleeve of her bright green shirt tickled my chin.

"Yeah, you're probably right," Katniss teased.

"Hey," I pretended to pout. "Is that any way to treat your boyfriend who just got a ninety-two?"

"No, it's not," Katniss agreed. Her eyes sparkled devilishly. "In fact, I think he deserves a reward."

And boy, did I get one.

* * *

**This was my submission for Day 7 of Prompts in Panem. I also posted an outtake from my other fic, Ten Million Lifetimes, in which things get a little...steamy. ;) It's called _Always Real_. **

**Come chat with me on tumblr- "ohalaskayoung"**

**xoxo**

**Amber Kay**


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